


Let the Flower Blossom

by neeash



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Goth Alec, M/M, Mutual Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Will update tags as story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 18:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15201218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neeash/pseuds/neeash
Summary: Botanical student Magnus Bane lives life with his friends at Alicante University in tranquil hedonism, often engaging in parties that involve drinking and one night stands and procrastination. And he's okay with that.Then when his friend Isabelle's big brother, Alec Lightwood moves back to Idris, a gothic smoker with tattoos and pretty smiles, Magnus finds himself attracted to the guy like the polarised magnets they are.And so fate warps Magnus and Alec together in a spiraling journey of something neither of them knew they were looking for in each other, but so desperately needed.





	Let the Flower Blossom

**Let the Flower Blossom**

 

Chapter One

 

The beginning of autumn in Idris was like the bridge of a winter song, the air a plume of immature coldness that dyed the tips of noses but required no use for a scarf so Magnus Bane braced the world with a wool-blend overcoat above a smart shirt. His nails were painted cobalt to match the coat and were certain to gleam when they caught the light for he selected a glossy varnish to ensure just that. He liked the shine- _and to shine_.

                  Upon trekking the short journey to Alicante University from their flat, Magnus and Catarina conversed in jovial discussions about nothing of radical significance but the minds of twenty year olds were still young and free and rebellious. Brains that were not quite ready to accept the responsibility of adulthood as they attended higher education with a selective freewheeling nature, which only shape shifted maturely when it involved the matter of who ate the last cookie.

                  “Oh shit, your trousers are inside out,” Catarina Loss pointed out as people poured in from all sides into the building.

                  A paroxysm of alarm nulled all remnants of sleep deprivation that came with being a Uni student as Magnus gave an unceremonious squeak, his ring adorned hands patting down the front of his thighs as he searched for confirmation to Catarina’s observation. And when he came back short, he narrowed his eyes at his friend who wore a shit-eating grin that creased lovely lines into her face. “I hate you, by the way are you twelve? I thought you left such antics behind you, Cat, I mean, considering we’re in our second year and all.”

                  Cat simply laughed and lightly pressed her palm against Magnus’ shoulder amicably. “I love you too and need I remind you who was dipping their chips into my ice cream last night?”

                  “Oh, that’s simply a flavour preference.” Magnus waved off, flourishing his hand to indicate as such while they walked to their respective class. “Anyway, Gordan Ramsay approves. I saw it on his twitter.”

                  “Bullshit.”

                  “No bull.”

                  “But all the shit.”

                  During the amble in the science ward, Magnus greeted acquaintances before finally dropping off Catarina to her class and going to his own; a biology lecture that one would normally resent at the beginning of the week but Magnus seemed to thrive off early mornings. His late mother taught him that much when he was younger.

                  He stole a seat on a row that was further from the front than the back, hauling his leather satchel on the table and retrieving his laptop from it. The device opened up on a site that relayed Magnus’ preoccupation with online shopping, something that wasn’t beneficial for his credit card but most obsessions were unhealthy anyway. Magnus scrolled through pages of party wear, occasionally scrutinising a piece that he pondered on purchasing before deciding to jettison or add it to his ever filling basket.

                  “Pick the yellow one. It’s quirky but you’d pull it off.”

                  A cloud of berries scented the air as Isabelle Lightwood pinched a seat next to Magnus, brandishing the elongated table with miscellany that she dropped aimlessly from the basket of her arms. Her long black hair was pulled back in a messy bun that allowed for rogue strands to peak out as if to nervously say hello and her lips were stained with last night’s lipstick.

                  Magnus raised his eyebrows at her appearance. “Rough night?”

                  “More like _nights_ ,” Isabelle sighed as she peered at his laptop screen over Magnus’ shoulder, her eyes not really following the pixels but she used his arm to lean on. “Remember, I told you? My brother is coming back and studying here and we’ve been getting the house ready for him, but mother dearest has me worked to the bone with cleaning his room spotless.”

                  Magnus recalled the name, distant information that made him remember all he thought to know about Isabelle’s brother. For a year or two he was sent to the City of Glass, a small conservative town to live with his relatives because the Lightwood parents couldn’t handle his supposed errant sexuality and rebellious behaviour. Magnus only rolled his eyes at that, figuring that Maryse Lightwood would have an aneurysm had she gotten to know him other than the passing fact of being Isabelle’s friend who shared a biology class with her.

                  After a sympathetic pat on her head, Magnus added the leggings printed with a swathe of scintillating yellow down the side to his basket that Isabelle diplomatically recommended. “I’ll buy your poor soul some coffee after this. Is he coming today?”

                  “Tomorrow,” Isabelle answered, her voice lilting into a more positive tenor as she wordlessly approved of a pair of shoes on the laptop screen. “And I can’t wait! Alec’s hopeless with technology but god I’ve missed him so much. And obviously, you have to meet him, Magnus.”

                  With a mindless hum that was cut short at the arrival of the professor, the pair of friends soon geared into a note-taking demeanour until the end of the lecture. Magnus had befriended Isabelle as easily as hot butter would melt on a fresh piece of toast at the start of last year, where she had just got out of college having skipped a year but her age hadn’t deterred Magnus from bonding with her. He found that Isabelle was a considerable amount more mature than those his own age and older, and he supposed he would rectify that with her strict upbringing but that didn’t discredit her innate quality of doing whatever the fuck she wanted, which was the set of morals Magnus lived by so it was warranted that they bode so well together. And then there was the fact that they were both total science geeks.

                  The decision for Magnus to study botany wasn’t one that was conjured out of nowhere, one that he picked with his eyes closed like a couple of people he knew did when it fared too difficult to pick just one path that was to be the foundation of their future. He had been determined from a tender age with a plan already written out for him in terms of the academic side of things to his life and so far, it had all been playing out like a perfect play with flawless actors and a seamless script.

                  Magnus had passed his first year with ease, ensured to spread out his revision over a more austere approach when exams were only a month ahead while the rest of the year was liberal and lived out like the youth he was.

For a gregarious person like him, it was deduced that Magnus would make a lot of friends, corroborated by the excessive number of contacts listed on his phone but he had enough experience with the delicacy of trust to appraise the integrity of a relationship with individuals. He didn’t have the time, which had _already_ been spent and wasted on so many others, to indulge those that didn’t care about him like he did towards them. But he also didn’t want to be alone.

The dissonance of the mater kept him up at nights, his mind pondering on the meaning behind loneliness, why sometimes Magnus would feel it in the presence of a bustling crowd, like a hollow ache in his chest as if he were missing something vital. Like he had been born with half a heart. Or at times so dreadfully heavy, like a rock he’d have to drag around in and out between corporeality.

Sometimes it would burgeon to the tips of his fingers and cause him to curl his toes in discomfort while his mind whirled on doses of nausea, flitting between reality and dreams because even though Magnus loved and had people reciprocate such emotions, he was _so damn alone_.

Isabelle pried him out of his reverie with a slam of her laptop screen as she shut it close and Magnus blinked at the word document that was halted mid-sentence, the ticking of the mouse a sardonic reminder of his lack of focus but he just shrugged with a light click of his tongue, deciding that he could attain the missing notes from someone in class. It had only been a week back into lessons so Magnus could let himself go for his daydream, he’d just have to get back into the midst of education.

“God, I only have a picture of when he was thirteen,” Isabelle mumbled, shoving her phone in Magnus’ face as they made their way to Pademonium café. “I think this was for Max’s first birthday.”

Magnus blinked his kohl-lined eyes rapidly, his pupils dilating accordingly to the lack of light outside as he concentrated on the image. It was a family picture, he presumed, what with the cordial smiles and close contact of six bodies. He saw prepubescent Isabelle, all large dark eyes and bright smiles that outshone her sequined top with her arm around a scrawny boy, fragile looking with his baggy sweater and nest of unruly dimmed hair that fell like closed curtains in a theatre show over his eyes, ending the chance to see into his soul without ever being given the option. Magnus figured he was the renowned, big brother Alec as he identified the blonde boy next to him as Jace, the Lightwood’s adoptive son and someone that he had come into contact more times than was necessary. Then a balding man with a woman who held one year old Max in her arms faced the camera with smiles that were sure to hurt their facial muscles for it seemed somewhat unnatural, but Magnus didn’t have to verbalise that.

“That’s adorable.” Magnus commented, all smiles and honesty because things like family warmed his heart. “It seems like Jace looked like an asshole from the start. How precious.”

But Isabelle only laughed in a fit as more tresses of her hair loosened from its lackadaisical bun as she threw her head back, alarming those around her who had to swerve the attack of her akimbo limbs. “You know, I bet you two have more in common than you guys think. You could be best friends.”

“The only thing I have in common with Jace is the fact that we both love you.”

Isabelle grinned. “Aw, Magnus! But your flattery isn’t getting you out of helping me today.”

“Damn.”

As friends went, Magnus offered to aid Isabelle in her last attempt at clearing out the remaining clutter in Alec’s room where they would afterwards review today’s lecture like the sophisticated students they were. He had been to Isabelle’s house before, or better known as the Lightwood estate where the rest of her family resided and the first few times, Magnus walked in with a gaping mouth because of its size but Robert and Maryse Lightwood were famous lawyers in charge of their own firm so he thought it wise spending.

Alicante was a moderately sized city, the University at the heart of it so most things were within walking distance, especially the affluent residencies that littered the place like specks of gold wedged in quartz stones. The entire country was infamous for its lack of transport, deeming it a modicum of the world that was rather behind modern standards but interwoven traditions held Idris back from advancing in technology. However with the world perpetually changing, so was Alicante even if by gradual small steps especially in comparisons to the other counties that were adamantly orthodox.

When the view of the living room was in tow, Isabelle dropped her bag onto a nearby sofa and her manicured nails left crescents in the styrofoam cup of coffee in her hands as she turned to Magnus. “You can go up first, it’s the one right at the end of the hallway. Want something to eat? I’m starving.”

“I can eat an apple,” Magnus replied, removing his coat to hang on the stand near the front door. “Ragnor is meant to be making dinner tonight.”

Isabelle pursed her lips at him, almost like a petulant pout. “But it’s lunchtime. You don’t want my five minute risotto?”

With difficulty, Magnus fought back the urge to grimace at the image of Isabelle’s cooking as his experiences with it, though diminutive in amount, were enough to deem her a terrible cook that needn’t ever be seen with a spatula in her hand. He shuddered as the phantom taste of her cookies crawled around his mouth, pestering his taste buds with acridity- her culinary skills should remain solely in scientific situations, for the greater good.

“I like apples.”

“Oh, piss off.”

Magnus laughed quietly on his way up the staircase, passing by Isabelle’s room that he usually frequented and made for the door at the end of the winding hallway. It was left ajar and he slipped in, surveying the scene with an impulse to redecorate the dull walls and switch out the wardrobes. He had a tendency to renovate new places, to make sure they fit accordingly to the surrounding environment and to his own tastes- which was why no one allowed him the chance to do so their own rooms. Magnus’ flair subverted propriety, as Ragnor called it, but he argued that it-

The sound of a door clicking open alarmed Magnus out of the daze of judging the miscellany in the room as he twisted on the heel of his shoes, eyes blinking in the intruding presence in front of him.

A guy around the same age as Magnus had ambled about two steps into the room when he realised that he wasn’t alone and immobilised, much like the posture Magnus was also displaying. Rivulets of waters lined the undulations of his abdominal muscles, the pale skin lurid like a canvas against the black ink that daubed him in intricate patterns, hair dusting his chest and a rosy complexion dotting his shoulders and cheeks as he patted his hips to ensure that the towel hadn’t fallen down by some divine intervention. And Magnus was sure that _that_ would have been a godly experience.

“Ah um…I didn’t know anyone was here- wh-who are you?” The man stammered out nonsense, his voice bordering on reedy as he became increasingly more flustered by the second what with the situation at hand being rather embarrassing. Magnus couldn’t blame him, so he couldn’t fault himself for tugging a smile at the adorable ramble that poured out from the stranger’s mouth, the blood in his cheeks like freshly blossomed red begonias.

“I’m Magnus. Magnus Bane. I’m a friend of Isabelle’s.”

A skitter of realisation sluiced out some of the humiliation in the man’s cheeks but his hands, that Magnus couldn’t help but notice were really big, retained their grasp on his towel that covered his lower half. “A-Alec. Her big brother.”

Oh. _Oh_. This was Alec. How the years had done him wonders, Magnus mused in his mind while he openly dragged his eyes over Alec’s face, catching the green moss in his hazel eyes and tracing over the lines of his cheekbones, the perfect bow of his pink lips that got him going like the libido of a young adult went. Then Magnus blinked, suddenly aware of his outward behaviour and was about to mentally reprimand himself when he realised that obscurity was scarce in his many experiences of advances.

He faced Alec, stretching the nape of his neck sideways while he spoke, appearing as if he were preparing for exercise but several of his previous dalliances had complimented the curve of his throat, insisting that it was one of his many physical merits. And Magnus had to admit, he did have a pretty collarbone. “Isabelle has expressed nothing but good things about you and I knew it was only a matter of time before we finally met, Alec. One may even call it. _Fate_.”

“F-fate?” Alec repeated, his dark hair damp, droplets of water dancing off some tresses and trailing down his face like running water from a valley. His eyes flitted from Magnus to the floor, the bare walls and then back like he was on loop, a broken record.

Magnus nodded, and stepped closer, watching the way half-naked Alec stuttered on the balls of his feet at the closing in of proximity. He spoke clinically, matter of factly to reiterate the ardent belief he had in what he was saying even though it was total bullshit. “Yes, fate. Something written in the stars, forces that not even Mother Nature can supress. Or call it God’s plan, if you believe in all that.”

A torrent of alternating emotions rained down on Alec’s face, looking like one would when flicking through picture frames and he finally settled on one that appeared as if he were seriously considering Magnus’ speech, which the latter certainly wasn’t opposing. And Magnus knew he was charming, could beguilingly lilt his voice while spouting absolute rubbish to get his way.

“Isabelle has talked a lot about you as well. You’re all over her instagram and…” Alec trailed off, pink polka dots speckling his face like freckles before they converged into prosperous roses. He darted his eyes from Magnus in a rapid fashion, and Magnus took that opening to observe the curling locks of hair on the side of his face, counting the individual tattoos on his skin and trying to figure out what they meant. “I, uh, Magnus right? I should really be getting changed into some clothes or something-”

Magnus wondered whether the blush that stained Alec’s cheeks spread elsewhere, if it went past his chest and made his palms clammy so he couldn’t help himself when he said, “oh, you don’t have to get dressed up for _me_ ,” in a ridiculously sultry pitch.

The hand Alec used to hold up his towel tightened into a white-veined grip as a tumble of incoherency left his lips, incomplete words stumbling over more incomplete words and Magnus stifled a laugh, biting down hard on the inside of his own mouth to muffle the bubbles of giggles that threatened to escape. He felt an airy flutter in the pit of his stomach, like a kaleidoscope of butterflies had made a home there, whirling around Magnus’ insides like a tempest. It was delightfully sickening.

“Oh my god, Alec!”

Isabelle shoved both plates in her hand into Magnus, who barely caught them, one breadth away from being precarious as he only just turned to the sound of her voice while she threw herself at Alec. He watched with a quiet smile as Isabelle fussed over Alec, jabbing at his biceps and commenting on his new tattoos while he looked at her, face clearly relaying his love for her from the spark in his eyes while his mouth creased a crooked grimace at the fact that he was only in a towel.

“I thought you were coming tomorrow!”

Alec looked conflicted between fondness and exasperation. “Izzy, I’ve missed you too but can’t this conversation wait until I’ve, y’know. Put on some clothes.”

“Ah? Hush, princess.” Isabelle rolled her eyes, but she stepped backwards, the front of her clothes carrying swathes of dampness before a wild grin lined her face. “Oh, are you embarrassed because Magnus is here? Looks even more magical in person-“

“Izzy!”

“I like what I’m seeing.” Magnus’ playful voice ran over Alec’s exclamation who blushed profusely at the entire ordeal, Isabelle bursting out in a peals of laughter as she headed to Magnus and out the door.

“You better come down as soon as you’ve changed, big brother.” Isabelle didn’t wait for her brother to respond as she grabbed onto Magnus’ arm to haul him along with her downstairs into the wide living room but Magnus couldn’t help but notice how the fatigue-induced dark circles under Isabelle’s eyes from the morning had been rubbed away, like pencil from paper, as if seeing Alec had invigorated her. He speculated vaguely what having a brother or sister would be like, if he would have been as familiar to them as Isabelle was to hers, because it looked like Magnus was missing out on something indispensably important. Perhaps that was where his loneliness stemmed from? But then again, could Magnus really miss something he had never known?

The next ten minutes were spent with Magnus biting into his apple, discussing today’s lecture with Isabelle while she filled herself with a pale rice concoction that distinctly reminded him of the baby porridge one would purchase in a jar. When Alec stumbled down the stairs, Magnus peered at him over his apple, clad in black joggers and a sweatshirt and his hair messily strewn in short locks on top of his head. Even though Alec’s body was completely covered this time, Magnus’ eyes lingered on the inked art peaking out brazenly from his shirt where it was marked on his neck. It looked like the beginnings of the letter _z_ , but contorted abstractly to mean something entirely different, like it originated from an archaic language. He wondered where it came from.

As if sensing the intense trajectory of Magnus’ stare, Alec absently clasped a hand to his neck while he shuffled towards them and took a seat on the sofa opposite from Magnus, eyes flitting over him as if he weren’t there. Isabelle swiftly planted herself next to her brother, hugging him from the side. “So why didn’t you come tomorrow? Mum and dad were going to make something special for you.”

“Ah, Aline was going back to work so I thought…”

Magnus wasn’t paying much attention to the content of the conversation, occasionally humming in affirmation when the situation allowed it but he was attuning his concentration to the baritone of Alec’s voice. It lost its high-pitched nervousness that it conveyed upstairs and now expressed something soft and deep like black velvet, alternating tenor like sweet gentle kisses to his ears. God, why did Alec have to own a voice like an angel?

From time to time, Alec would run his eyes over Magnus like he was scanning him briefly to check if he had suddenly vanished or altered in some inconceivable way. And sometimes, Magnus would return the shifting gaze in a silent engagement.

He headed home shortly after, deducing that he shouldn’t impose on anymore of the precious moments of the Lightwood sibling’s reconciliation and with the promise of seeing Isabelle soon. His friendship with Isabelle was something Magnus cherished close to his heart, the first few weeks he had known her crept up to him eerily with how much he got along with her, with how much they related on materialist topics and heartfelt subjects. She always pushed him to the brink, was someone who held no inhibitions about being the one to push him off the edge because she would fall along with him with her wings stretched wide. He found a quiet comfort in her presence, and would never wish to poison it with his selfishness. Magnus found a quick friend in Isabelle and the ease of their relationship was something irreplaceable.

                  And no pretty girl or pretty boy would ever come in the way of that. Especially if that someone was Isabelle’s brother.  

                  At least that was what Magnus geared his mind towards until around half ten in the evening when Isabelle texted him:

                  **Isabelle** : _so alec may not look like the cuddling type but trust me when I say that he’d really love to be coddled by you ;)_

**Author's Note:**

> #SaveShadowhunters (join the fight on twitter!) here's my handle if you want to talk about this story or whatever peaks your fancy!- @neeashking 
> 
> i was rewatching shadowhunters and god i love emo alec and i just love how different he is to magnus. so here's what came out of that fantasy lol. i actually wanted to study botany when i was younger, before i realised that 'hey ash u kinda suck at science' so i just embraced my love of literature instead. 
> 
> i hope you enjoyed reading this and thank you for doing so! :) bbye for now.


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